


Cute Aggression

by All_the_damned_vampires



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Belly Kink, Biting, Blood Kink, Come Eating, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9430229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_the_damned_vampires/pseuds/All_the_damned_vampires
Summary: It's only surprising because of the two of them, Lukas is the likelier candidate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Cute Aggression: the "almost-overwhelming urge to do violence to an object that we find incredibly adorable."
> 
>  
> 
> http://www.gobroadreach.com/broadreach-blog-cute-aggression

It's only surprising because of the two of them, Lukas is the likelier candidate.

It's those teeth. Sharkish sharp and long, gleaming when he smiles wide, which is more often now. Now that he's settled more comfortably in his own skin.

Philip doesn't look like a biter. Not with that soft, kewpie doll mouth.

And it's not like Lukas *doesn't*. He does. Bite, that is. He worries Philip's lip between his teeth when they kiss, he leaves a track of red roses across Philip's collarbone, working his way down to gnaw Philip's nipples raw and pink and puffy.

Nothing that shows with a shirt on.

"Do you think hickeys are trashy?" Philip asks and Lukas laughs quietly into the pillow and doesn't answer.

In the bathroom mirror, Phillip bends over, naked from the waist down and looks at the wet aftermath of their lovemaking. His hole is stretched and wet and leaking--no condom, not for a while now--and nearly purple from being worked over by Lukas's lips and teeth and tongue. There's a violent-colored love bite just under the curve of one ass cheek, it throbs when he sits down later on the slat-backed kitchen chair.

Philip looks over his shoulder at the pretty picture he makes and smiles.

At dinner he crunches down on an egg roll and the crust re-opens a crack in Philip's mouth, a little wound left by Lukas' gnashing teeth. Philip works his tongue around the injury, swallowing copper amid crisp pastry and carrots and bean sprouts. The blood would be a better complement, he thinks, to Lukas' cock in his mouth.

"You seem happy," Helen offers, shrewd eyes seeking, faint smile dancing at the corner of her lips and Philip smiles innocently back.

There's also the obvious observation that between them, Philip seems the softer one. Creamy skin and doll-big eyes and the sweet curve of his cheek. Lukas is more spare; all sharp angles and lean, gleaming limbs, like a marble statue. If Philip tried to sink his teeth into a bicep, would he have to work hard to take that flesh between his teeth, stingy and hard as a raw pear?

Philip reaches out and his fingers slip right off sweat-greased skin, sliding down Lukas' wiry arms, settling at those narrow wrists. Lukas has always seemed so hard to hold onto, for a variety of reasons. Better to let go, let it happen, let Lukas manhandle him around with those puppy-big hands, pulling close and then shoving back, rough with need.

Later as they lie on their backs, heads together on the pillow, Philip looks down at Lukas' pretty, raw boned feet. He sucks his lower lip between his teeth and imagines biting Lukas' big toe.

So many places to try and dig his teeth in.

Philip gets his chance a week later. There's a scrape on Lukas' shin--not from a crash on his bike, just some stupid little farm accident--leading from his knee to his ankle. He kneels up to throw Philip's legs around his shoulders and hisses, pulling back to sit up and rub at his bony shin.

"Fuck, it's bleeding again," Lukas half-heartedly complains, holding up a red-smeared finger. He wipes it on the sheets before Philip can suck it into his mouth.

"Lie back," Philip says and Lukas topples over easily, smile on his face. They don't do this often. Philip prefers to be on his back, held down and devoured and Lukas, well, he seems to like space behind him. But the way Lukas settles in, thigh spread and hips tilted up, shoulders loose, he's in just the right mood to be the center of Philip's attention. He waggles his dick playfully, letting it slap wet against his belly. It isn't the center of Philip's focus though.

Lukas has one soft spot.

Turning onto his stomach, sliding between Lukas' thighs, Philip regards the object of his obsession. A boy like Lukas--runway model legs and nipped-in waist--should have a concave belly. A smooth little starveling dip, big enough to push a fist into.

He doesn't. There's a sleek pad of belly fat nestled above the tip of his cock. Plush little tummy just perfect for sinking teeth into.

The first time Lukas took off his shirt, Philip almost lunged right for it. Things had been fragile enough that he'd resisted, biting down on his own lip instead.

But now Lukas is smiling down at him, that fond grin, head propped on one arm. It's safe enough between them for Philip to lean in, deliberate, and plant a sharp-toothed kiss just to the side of Lukas' straining cock.

Lukas jerks, but doesn't pull away, and Philip soothes the small bite with a lick, before reaching up to palm his boyfriend's cock, which hasn't flagged from the pain. Soft, shudder-y sigh and Lukas breathes, "Yeah," and Philip knows he's free to set his hunger loose.

His hand strokes Lukas' cock roughly, his hips rut against flannel sheets, but it's secondary to his mouth roaming across that little curve of belly, cave-white skin and a tangle of hair at the belly button, all made for tongue and lips and teeth.

Philip bites, hard, then harder still, smiling against the abused skin, feeling Lukas thrust up into his hand, cock spitting wetness, adding a bitter, much loved flavor to the skin under Philip's mouth.

He can hear Lukas' guttural moaning; he's close. Philip digs his teeth in, setting off a hissing moan from above, and comes against the bed. A moment later, wet splatters against his chin and nose.

"Fuck," Lukas mutters, every inch of skin shivering.

Philip raises his head. Lukas' eyes are closed, his mouth slack, but with a faint grin. He looks delicious.

Philip bites his own lip instead of striking again.

In apology, he cleans up with slows licks of his tongue across Lukas' trembling belly. There's a pretty trail of red-purple bruises all over that white skin, one of which actually tastes of blood. Philip gives that one special attention, before he kicks the wet sheets to the foot of the bed and crawls up to settle against Lukas's shoulder.

"What got into you?" Lukas murmurs after a while, his voice fond and sleepy and just a little bit dazed.

*You*, Philip thinks, tongue chasing the taste of blood and spunk around his mouth. He doesn't say anything; instead he tilts his chin and gives Lukas a closed-lip smile, carefully hiding all of his teeth.


End file.
